


monstrous desires

by the bloodsucking brady bunch (Ejunkiet)



Series: deviance from an absolute [2]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, klaus mikaelson may or may not have a heart, reimagining of certain events, s4 e14: into the wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 06:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15188531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejunkiet/pseuds/the%20bloodsucking%20brady%20bunch
Summary: She steps up to the invisible line that divides them, close enough that he can catch the floral notes of her perfume, and all he can hear are the words of his older brother over nine centuries ago, “you're a blight on this world, Klaus.”--Klaus Mikaelson is a monster.





	monstrous desires

**Author's Note:**

> Klaus Mikaelson, a character study. This is part of the same universe as deviance, but takes a shot at Klaus’ perspective instead of Caroline’s. This is a reimagining of That Scene in season four episode thirteen.

Klaus is a monster. He knows this, intimately; he’s had centuries to perfect himself into the creature he is today, and he likes it. It means strength. It means survival. It means he gets what he wants.

\--

One of his own stands across from him (betrayer) with an intent to kill him. He's been lucky - very lucky - in his circumstances, and he's taken much from him these past few weeks, too much.

Klaus owes him a debt, one he intends to collect in blood, one day.

“My brother is dead.” The words fit awkwardly in his mouth, almost alien - Mikaelsons don’t _die_. “Your mother's death has been avenged. An eye for an eye, as they say.”

He's being reasonable. More than. It will last for as long as he remains confined by whatever twisted magic the Bennet witch is playing with these days, and then he's razing this bloody town to the ground and taking everything else with it, humans and vampires and hybrids alike.

The boy spits out a laugh, mouth twisting, and he speaks like a child. “I'm going to kill you, Klaus. I'm going to shove the cure down your throat and rip your heart out of your chest myself. And you know what?”

He leans in close - _not close enough_ \- and grins, his eyes yellow, teeth sharp. “I'm going to enjoy it.”

_\--_

Caroline breaks through the tension.

 _“Tyler_.” She’s a vision in white, her tone cutting as she crosses the entrance hall, and something within Klaus settles. “What are you still doing here?”

The boy pours another healthy measure of whiskey into his glass and tips it mockingly toward him as if to say, what do you think?

Klaus takes a step towards the barrier and he must say something, as she looks at him, expression fierce and eyes like the sun.

She turns away from him and doesn’t look back. “It's not worth it, Tyler. Come home.”

“We’re so close, Caroline.” The boy leans forward, grip flexing around the glass, and his eyes are earnest. “Elena and Stefan have nearly got the cure. When they bring it back, we are going to be finally rid of this son of a bitch, once and for all.”

She hesitates, and something small and bright kindles within Klaus’ chest.

It’s short-lived.

  _\--_

_(“Are you so delusional that you think that we can just forget everything else you’ve done?”_

_She steps up to the invisible line that divides them, close enough that he can catch the floral notes of her perfume, and all he can hear are the words of his older brother over nine centuries ago the moment before he slipped a silver dagger between his ribs, “you're a blight on this world, Klaus.”_

_The rage within him flares to the life, burning through everything in its path until he’s blinded by it, and he-_

_And he-)_

\--

He can feel her shake as the splintered wood from the broken lamp twists into her gut. He can smell the flood of adrenaline and cortisol as his hands move to her neck, her jaw, sliding along the soft skin of her throat before his teeth find purchase and make a home there.

Caroline tastes as sweet as he thought she would.

Her breath escapes her in a shuddering gasp that steals all the air from the room as he releases his grip on her. She crumples as the poison takes hold, no longer able to support her own weight, but when she finally falls to the floor, he doesn't see it, can't register anything aside from the rush of blood, the thrill of it.

“Sorry, love,” is his apology, and one day maybe he’ll regret the rashness of his actions, his impulsivity. But not today. The taste of her is sweet on his tongue, but it's overshadowed by the surety of this _victory_. He watches as the boy stumbles over, pawing at her wounds, the blood that stains the delicate fabric of her shirt. He will not be made a mockery, they should know that.

Still, something stirs in the pit of his stomach and settles there, heavy and obtrusive. It stays long after they make their way out of the room and up the stairs.

\--

Hours later, she comes back to him, and the unsettling feeling returns. She is dying.

“I'm sorry, love,” he says again. “It’s nothing personal. If I heal you, he wins.”

She laughs, and it's a weak thing, barely more than a huff of air, but she doesn't rebuke the statement, turning her face away as he kneels down beside her and takes her into his arms. She's trembling as he lays her down on the couch, and although she’s practiced at masking it, he can read the tightness of her jaw, the clench of her fists against the worn fabric of the blanket he drapes over her. She still won’t look at him. That thing in his stomach stirs, digging in its teeth.

Struck by the impulse, he reaches forward to brush a strand of hair away from her cheek, and she tenses, and he can trace the trajectory of the aborted movement: she’d meant to bite him. It sends a thrill through his chest - as pointless and ill-advised as the move would be.

Strong and beautiful and _fearless_.

\--

It's not long after that she finally breaks her silence. “I am going to die, Klaus.”

He knows. He’s been following the stutter of her heartbeat in her chest, already slowed nearly to the point of true death, and somewhere deep, he feels something that could resemble regret - but it’s clouded by the anger, hot and familiar, licking at his heels. His pride is his greatest flaw, Elijah has said as much, repeatedly - and Klaus wonders what he’d say if he was here. If he’d try to save him from himself.

Caroline speaks to him. Even now, with the poison of his bite coursing through her veins, killing her, she confronts him with her honesty. She confronts the monstrous side of him and appeals to his weakness, his humanity.

_ (“I know that you’re in love with me.”) _

He is.

_ (“Anyone capable of love is capable of being saved.”) _

He will prove to be the exception to that rule.

_ (“I’ll guess I’ll never know.”) _

And something within him yields.

\--

It's a selfish action when his teeth break into the skin of his wrist and he brings his blood to her mouth, fingers close around the back of her neck, embracing her, as he asks her to drink, almost begs for it. He shudders as her fingers close around his wrist, securing him to her, but there is strength to be found in this admission, this surrender.

A thousand more birthdays. He will accept nothing less from her; Klaus is a monster, and he gets what he wants.


End file.
